Walk with Me (BookStrand Publishing Mainstream) (3 page)

“What police bunnies?”

“The police groupies. The girls hanging around the station or bars with cops, hoping to hook up with one or land one as a boyfriend and husband. It’s a whole subculture of sorts,” Danielle says, rolling her eyes.

“You mean groupies like rock stars and ballplayers have? Those types of groupies?”

“Yeah, it may sound funny, but there are girls who have this fantasy about cops because they are heroes of sorts. They believe they’re our modern-day knights in shining armor, and these cops are going to rescue them like damsels in distress and sweep them off to live happily ever after in a castle like during King Arthur times.”

“As a matter of fact that’s why Tyler wanted to introduce you to him. Donovan’s been looking for a normal girl—a girl with an actual head on her shoulders and her own life. Not like the single-minded bunnies, only looking to land a guy. You’re available and he’s available, so there you go. It’s not like you’re going to marry the guy, just go out with him. It’ll be good for you. You need a break once in a while—have some fun. You haven’t been out with anyone for a while.”

Okay,” I say, holding my hand up, signaling Danielle to stop her hard sell. “I’ll go out on a double date with you guys. What the hell. It may be fun.”

“Yay.” She claps excitedly. “Ooo, maybe he’ll ask you to the police awards banquet. Tyler and I are going. Now. Let’s talk about where we should go on our double date.”

“Whose car are we taking?” I yell at Danielle from my room, which is right next to hers on the sunny south side of her parents’ small three-bedroom house.

I’m packing my backpack with sunscreen, an emergency snack, and a bottle of water. I love my Tokidoki backpack. It’s multicolor and goes with everything. Small enough to look like a purse, but big enough to carry all the stuff I need for a day’s outing.

Leaning against the doorframe, she watches me cram my bag. “Donovan is picking Tyler up from his place first then coming to get us,” she says, eyes focused on my actions. “Donovan has a really nice car. I think he just bought it. You’re going to be impressed.”

Danielle’s comment surprises me because that sort of thing doesn’t impress me. My stepdad drove a Mercedes, but it was all for show. He was into status symbols and trophies, like my mom. I didn’t think those sorts of things mattered much to Danielle.

“Are you about ready? They texted they’d be here in ten minutes and that was fifteen minutes go.”

“Yep. All done.” I buckle the flap closed on my backpack and swing the bag over one shoulder. I’m wearing a pair of my favorite jeans, a black fitted V-neck T-shirt, and my black converse sneakers. “Do you think I’ll need a jacket
and
a sweater? Or just a sweater?”

“I’m taking a jacket, too, because Disneyland doesn’t close until midnight and gets colder as the night goes on,” Danielle says. “It’s always best to dress in layers there. We can rent a locker, though, to keep our stuff in until we need it later.”

Danielle pulls her phone from the pocket of her jeans and taps the screen. “That’s them. They want us to meet them out front.”

I follow Danielle out of our small yellow house and down the cement path toward a shiny new white BMW parked proudly in front. Both Tyler and Donovan are starting to get out of the car as we walk up. Danielle stops at the back passenger-side door and gives Tyler a kiss, so I move around to the driver side, my stomach fluttering.

Standing at the back passenger door, looking hunky, Donovan is sporting a casual smile on his lips. He’s wearing jeans that hug him in all the right places and a fitted green Henley emphasizing his solid chest and shoulders. The color of the shirt makes his hazel eyes appear greener today. His eyes must change color with whatever he’s wearing, unlike mine that stay plain brown all the time. Styled messy with product, his hair is spiked up in front and on top, making his off-duty look a little more relaxed and fun.

“Hi, Kenna,” he says, letting his eyes wander up and down my frame. “You look pretty today.” Donovan opens the door for me like a rare gentleman, touching me gently on the curve of my back and sending a shiver down my spine.

“Thank you,” I reply, looking coyly up at him. “I like what you did with your hair today.” I smile like a fool.

The interior of the car is just as sleek as the outside with smooth tan leather and wood trim accents. I pull the armrest down and place my backpack between my knees on the floor. “Nice car. Is it new?” I ask Donovan as he shuts his door, settling into the driver’s seat.

“Yeah. I know it’s such a cliché to buy a new car when you get your first real job out of college and it’s a waste of money, but I’ve worked hard and wanted to reward myself with something nice,” Donovan says.

“Well, this is more than nice.” I laugh, stroking the soft leather. “This looks like top of the line.”

“I don’t like to settle for second best. If I see something I like and I know it’s worth it, I’ll go for it.” He looks at me through the rearview mirror. All I can see is his eyes, but they crinkle in the corners with a smile. I look down at my fingers and away from his gaze. I’m not used to such sweet words, trained by Richard and my mom to only expect insults.

“Can we get a locker first thing so Kenna and I can put our stuff in?” Danielle changes the subject. “I don’t want to stand around all day carrying stuff. Oh, and I was able to make reservations at the Blue Bayou Restaurant for dinner.”

“Nice,” Tyler says. “It should be short wait lines, too, since it’s a Tuesday and off-season. We may not even need to get Fast Passes.”

“You’re right. How do you guys want to handle what rides we go on and in what order? I can’t do spinning rides like the teacups. They make me sick,” Donovan says. “But Space Mountain is a must.”

Tyler speaks up. “I call the Matterhorn and Haunted Mansion. Oh and Indiana Jones is good, too.”

“I really don’t care,” Danielle says, “just no water rides. It’s too cold to walk around with wet clothes.”

“What about you, Kenna?” Donovan asks, looking at me through the rearview mirror. “Any requests or restrictions?”

“No. I’ve actually never been to Disneyland. It’s all new to me, so I’ll defer to you guys and just go along with whatever everybody else wants to do.”

I see Donovan’s eyes widen in the mirror. “You’ve never been to Disneyland? Didn’t you grow up in LA?”

I stiffen with embarrassment. “Yes. But we did other things than go to theme parks,” I say, lying. “My parents were really into boating, so we spent most of our free time doing that.” Over the years I’ve perfected how to cover up and hide the truth of what really happened at my parents’ house. I rub my wrist remembering how the weekends I spent with my parents were more like a child labor camp, involving harsh discipline from my stepfather and abandonment from my mother, leaving me to fend for myself.

“Oh. Well then this should be fun to see your reaction to
The Happiest Place on Earth
,” Donovan says.

For the rest of the drive, everyone is buzzing with excitement, filling me in on all the different rides and shows. Danielle goes on about the Tiki Room show and “It’s a Small World” ride. How they’re kind of corny but you have to do them. She is a plethora of information, noting the best times to see which shows and parades.

I almost fall over at the cost of the tickets per person to get into Disneyland, and I do some quick calculations in my mind. This is going to be an expensive date for Donovan and Tyler.

Donovan hands me my ticket. “Come on, little girl, let’s get your picture taken with Mickey,” he says with a sly smirk.

I smile at his little joke, but quickly realize when I enter the turn style he was being serious. Mickey and Minnie are standing at the entrance taking pictures with guests as they walk in.

Donovan takes my hand and leads me to the short group of people waiting. “Let’s take one with our camera and the professional one.” He talks back over his shoulder to Tyler and Danielle.

His hand is large and warm in mine. I relax next to him, waiting for our turn. How does he do that—make me so relaxed and secure around him? When we’re next, he hands the photographer his phone to take a group picture of the four of us, and then we pose again for the professional shot.

After our photo, they lead me under a stone bridge and tunnel that opens into a small make-believe village set with a fire station, shops, and restaurants. It’s all very quaint and enchanting, like we’ve been transported into a mythical land where anything is possible and happy endings are the norm. Something I gave up on years ago, when I realized I’m the only one who can create my own happy endings.

After stowing our extras into the locker, we continue strolling down and out of Main Street USA to an open roundabout.

“Is anyone hungry?” Donovan points to an old-fashioned food cart on the side of the road. “We can get a corndog on a stick. They make the best ones here.”

“Not until I get my picture in front of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle,” Danielle demands. And we all trudge over to the fairy-tale castle surrounded by a moat complete with real white swans. Danielle and Tyler hand Donovan their camera and they pose like cheese balls in front of the castle.

I catch Tyler rolling his eyes at Danielle when he takes the camera back from Donovan and announces, “Okay, you two. Your turn.”

“No way!” I protest, the rattle of my imaginary armor shocking me. I barely know this guy and I don’t buy into the whole Prince Charming thing.

Grinning at me, Donovan bends down, bathing my ear with his velvet voice. “Let’s just get it over with or he won’t leave us alone until we do. Plus, that’s what you do here at Disneyland.”

My mouth turns to cotton, making speech impossible. Not wanting to buck the system or go against the Disneyland way, I quietly acquiesce like I’ve been trained to do and grit my teeth, smiling like a cheese ball, too, in front of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle. The sun is shining high in the sky and the swans are swimming by our sides. All we need now are little blue birds chirping around our heads and the fantasy should be complete.
This is so corny
.

Standing next to me, Donovan grabs me at the waist and hitches me closer to his side. His sudden contact snaps me out of my sarcastic thoughts and sends a thrill coursing through me. After the picture, he releases his hold around me. “Now see, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he whispers and his hot breath turns my insides to liquid.

“No, I guess not.” I pout. I actually kind of liked it, the touching part at least. And that’s how things continue the rest of the afternoon—the four of us acting like big kids, taking pictures, riding rides, and watching shows. Donovan stays by my side, occasionally holding my hand to lead me, or grazing the small of my back to guide me, but nothing for long.

Our conversations flow easily. We talk about the rides, the plan for the day, or about their other experiences at Disneyland. I’m having fun.
Is this what normal teens do?

After the Autopia ride, Danielle and I stop to use the restroom and freshen up. “So, what do you think of Donovan?” Danielle asks from the sink next to me.

“I like him. He seems great. That is, what I can tell from our short conversations.”

“Yeah, I think he likes you, too. He’s very attentive to you. I think he wants to make today special for you, too, since it’s your first time and all. Hey, I didn’t think of it until now, but he’s popping your Disney cherry,” Danielle whispers, all proud of herself for coming up with this observation.

“Nice.” I roll my eyes at her.

When we walk out of the bathroom, Tyler and Donovan are trying on hats at the hat kiosk. Donovan’s wearing a standard blue baseball cap with a big letter
M
on the front, and he looks even more handsome with that damn hat on. It frames his face, accentuating his square jaw and highlighting his eyes. He looks like a movie star incognito.

A smile plays on his lips as I walk toward him. “Let’s get you a set of Mickey ears to commemorate your first time at D-Land,” Donovan says. “We can have them sew your name or initials on the back.”

I frown. “No. That’s okay. I don’t need a hat.” I’ve done nothing to earn a gift. Why would he want to give me one?

“Yes, you do. Everyone gets a pair. Come on. It’ll be my treat,” he says, dragging the wallet from his rear pocket, drawing my eyes to his perfectly shaped backside. I knew he would look good in jeans. I flush at my errant thoughts. “How about these?” he asks, pulling down a headband with a red-and-white polka-dot bow and two mouse ears. “These shouldn’t mess up your hair like a full hat would. I like the way you’re wearing your hair today, by the way.”

How am I wearing it? Oh yeah, I twisted the sides, pulling them off my face, and clipping them in the back. The rest is hanging loosely down my back and my bangs are swept to the side. I never thought about it, but the first time Donovan met me, I had come from work and my hair was probably up in a ponytail or loose braid—a requirement when I’m prepping food.

He takes the ears and carefully puts them on me, sweeping my long hair behind my shoulder. My skin tingles from his touch. “Those look perfect. Don’t you think, Danielle?”

“Huh?” she says looking up at us. “Oh, yeah. Those are cute, Kenna. Maybe I’ll get a pair, too.”